


The Truth Untold

by Gio_hannigram



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings - Freeform, KuroMahi, M/M, garden au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 22:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20433620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gio_hannigram/pseuds/Gio_hannigram
Summary: Kuro is an immortal being trapped inside his house waiting for someone to make it home.





	The Truth Untold

Kuro’s garden was old but beautiful. 

Looking out of his window he could admire it, along with the entrance to his mansion.

Some days the garden was the only thing keeping him from despair.

He kept himself busy taking care of it, making sure that every flower got enough care so they would be equality beautiful. 

Some days he barely could look at it, dreaded going out and taking care of it. Some days he only wanted to sleep and hopefully never wake up.

He often dreamt of someone trespassing the gates, getting to the garden and destroying it as revenge.

Even knowing fully well that those he wronged were long gone, he couldn’t get over that nightmare. 

To many it could seem as unimportant and stupid to worry so much over a few flowers, but those flowers happened to be Kuro’s only companions.

Even worse was the fact that his favorite kind of flowers were ones that were no longer found somewhere else. The only remaining ones were in front of him, he took special care with them. Old as him, lonely as him but so much more beautiful.

The flowers seemed to glow, a grey colour that reflected the light of the moon and sun. So smooth that they seemed made of crystal. Often Kuro found himself staring at them for hours.

Time came and went, his garden changed, getting bigger as decades paced but the crystal flowers remained the same. 

Buildings rose and fell around his home, people came and went. Sometimes he recalled a face from one of his neighbours only to realize that they probably moved or passed away a long time ago.

The few neighbours he had now knew better than to bother him. Old stories ran through town. 

_ About a trapped soul in a crystal garden. _

They also said that anyone who tried to step into the garden never came back. 

However, as decades went, the few daring teens who tried were left without memories of how they got out. The only remaining thing from going in was a numbing sensation of fear. An echo in their minds telling them over and over again, _ careful with the flowers, never touch the flowers. _

Kuro was having one of his bad days. Days in which screams and cold shivers woke him up. Days in which the garden stayed unattended for he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving his bed. Days in which he cursed himself, the garden, the flowers and life itself.

He sank deeper under the covers, groaning as every small move made his body ache. He was tired, so exhausted yet he couldn’t die, he couldn’t sleep, he barely could breathe.

For a second he thought of not standing up when he heard the gates move. They were so old that any push with more force than air would make them resound.

He was tired, so tired. He didn’t want to deal with whoever had dared to tresspast. Kuro hated those people, stupid idiots who thought they could demonstrate something by annoying him.

For a brief moment he thought of just leaving it be, that maybe the person would only walk around and get out. Most only wanted to be able to say that they had stepped in.

But then he heard the footsteps closer and _ closer. _

_ The crystal ones. _

Panic rose within him at the thought of the person going directly for his favorite ones.

His tiredness was forgotten under the crushing fear of losing the only good thing in his miserable life.

So he ran, through the hallways to the gigant doors and rushed out only to freeze in place as he stared at a young man watering the flowers.

Kuro hid behind one of the many statues surrendering his garden and stared, confused.

Nobody had done that before.

The boy’s brown hair and pale skin seemed to shine next to the flowers with the sun rising behind him.

“There has not been rain in days, I cannot let such beautiful flowers die. I’ll take care of you. Thinking simply, I’m the only one who can.”

Kuro took the form of a cat and slowly walked closer, listening to the boy’s sweet talk to the flowers, caring to water each separately. 

Kuro passed close to him, looked him up and down. Judging if he should scare him away or not. The boy caught sight of him and smiled causing Kuro to stop mid step and stare, enticed. There was something about the boy that seemed _ sweet. _ Kuro couldn’t say what it was but a part of him felt relief, as his worries faded away.

Mahiru, as the boy called himself, spoke lively to the flowers, almost as Kuro himself did. Like old friends.

“I’ll come to take care of you as often as I can.” He assured before jumping his way out of the gates.

“All that trouble just to make sure you’re taken care of?” Kuro stared after him, mindlessly speaking to his flowers.

A couple of months went by with the brown haired boy jumping in and out of his home. Through it Kuro stayed silently in the shadows close to him, listening to Mahiru’s little tales about his life, about his dearest friends, about the lost and grief of some of his beloved ones. But most of all Kuro listened to the boy’s loneliness.

As Mahiru’s admiration for the flowers grew, dread did inside Kuro as his heart ached when the boy smiled. He could only guess what the tickling sensation in his stomach and the tightening of his heart meant.

As the days went by Kuro’s nightmares changed. He no longer dreamed of past screams, blood and death but of certain amber eyes losing their shine. Of his garden being cold and lonely without Mahiru. Of days without the sweet sunny boy’s smile.

The garden bloomed. 

Mahiru’s presence so constant that Kuro barely got any opportunity of taking care of the flowers himself.

On his bad days Kuro laid in his human form behind one of the statues listening to Mahiru’s voice. Closing his eyes. 

Mahiru’s voice a comfort and barrier keeping Kuro’s awful thoughts away.

After Mahiru left that day Kuro remained sitting shocked with himself.

The emptiness that he had forgotten while listening to Mahiru rose in full force as he tried to breath his way through a panic state.

It was stupid, wasn’t it?

He knew so much about Mahiru, the boy made him _ feel, _ yet the boy didn’t even know he was there. 

_ And if he found out he would probably never going to come back. _

Shaking his head Kuro went back inside his house, throwing one last glance at the gates instead of the flowers.

On one of his good days Kuro smiled as he listened to Mahiru speak about one of his friends falling for another telling obvious false tales. The irritable but fond tone of his voice making Kuro feel content.

He even had to bite his lower lip once to prevent his laugh.

It was then that a cold tremor ran through him.

_ Content, smiles? _

Kuro’s thoughts fought each other, he was content with Mahiru being there, yes. Even if all he did was speak to the flowers, even if he didn’t know Kuro was there, and a different part of him felt miserable, because that’s what his existence was reduced to. A hidden monster who couldn’t bring himself to face what would happen if Mahiru ever found out about him.

It was laughable and embarrassing how little he could have, how much he appreciated Mahiru’s presence and the other wasn’t even speaking to _ him. _

Tears rolled down his cheeks and his body tightened, hugging himself feeling every fiber in him ache. 

Kuro’s throat hurt from the effort of keeping his sobs in.

Mahiru was softy humming a song behind him.

And Kuro yearned to be able to ask which song it was, why did it sound sad and what could he do to help if Mahiru felt sad.

It would eventually end in more pain. He was already deep in and he hadn’t even crossed a word with him. 

And if he tried and Mahiru didn’t run away?

What if he pretended? What if he lied and didn’t show the ruined part of him?

_ Is there some part that’s not ruined? _

An evil voice whispered inside him.

He couldn’t show himself.

“You know, it is strange,” Mahiru interrupted his thoughts. “That I’ve been coming here for almost a year now and you still haven’t even told me your name.”

Kuro sat straight. His breaths turning harsh.

“I know you are hiding for a reason, I have hoped that as time went by you would come up to me.” Mahiru kept on. 

Kuro could tell he was sad and it made him want to have the courage to reach out.

“I love your garden, and your company, even if you pretend you’re not here.” The sound of the flowers being watered stopped and steps made their way until they reached the back of the statue.

“What is your name? Have you always been here? Could you tell me?” Mahiru whispered behind the _ barrier. _

“I can’t get closer to you. There’s no name you can call me.” Kuro whispered back. He felt shattered, so afraid.

“Alright,” Mahiru sighed. “The black cat...the black cat I saw the first day. Was it you?”

How could he know?

“I’ve heard stories. Even more after I started coming regularly. About a trapped soul.”

“I’m not trapped, I’m where I deserve to be.” It was a reminder more for himself than for Mahiru. “I didn’t know there were stories about a cat.”

“I saw your shadow. I know you wanted to hide but I couldn’t help notice it.”

Kuro’s embarrassment had his face feeling so warm he thought there might be the possibility of him passing out. 

Such a stupid mistake.

_ Was it? _

Behind him Mahiru sighed.

“If you won’t or can’t tell me your name...can I call you Kuro?”

“Because of my black cat form?” Kuro asked amused. Some of the pression on his shoulders easing.

“It’s simple.”

“And you love simple things.” Kuro whispered with a soft smile. 

Mahiru hummed his approval.

“Can I keep coming?” Kuro thought for a moment of telling him no. Of saving them both the unnecessary things to come. Of saving himself the pain of growing attached to Mahiru only to see him go and never comeback, either because he would want to or because if something happened to him, there was no way for Kuro to know. 

_ But wasn't he already attached? _  
  


Silence passed between them. Mahiru's breath becoming audible as the seconds passed. Kuro’s heart ached.

“If you want to. If not don't worry I can take…”

“I’d love to!” Mahiru enthusiastically replied. “Thank you! Kuro.”

Kuro swallowed hard. 

_ God, please, let me not regret this. _

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time.  
All mistakes are mine.


End file.
